


Days Like These

by psalmoflife



Series: Evolve [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Headaches & Migraines, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalmoflife/pseuds/psalmoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy has a migraine. Clint helps with the migraine. And their whatever-it-is, friends-with-benefits situation goes one step further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Like These

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to work on Serious Stories this weekend but... this week kinda sucked (both for the obvious, national reasons, as well as some personal ones) and I had a really bad headache yesterday so... here you go!
> 
> I am using this for my "celebratory kiss" square at Trope Bingo. 
> 
> If you didn't read the first story in the series. Clint and Darcy have a friends-with-benefits arrangement that has, thus far, only included blowjobs.

Darcy’s brain is melting out of her ears. 

Seriously, there is no other explanation for why her head hurts this badly.

She’s face-down on a couch in one of the common areas- she isn’t really sure which one- with throw pillows on either side of her head to try to block out light and sound. She keeps trying to get up to go to her room, but every time she moves, her stomach indicates severe displeasure with that particular plan.

She’s seriously considering hitting her panic button – is, in fact, ruminating on exactly how pissed Fury will be if she calls in an emergency squad to fetch her medicine out of her bathroom – when footsteps come into the room (thankfully partially muffled by the pillows). 

“Hey,” a familiar voice says. “You okay?” 

“Do I look like I’m okay?” Darcy replies in a tight voice. She isn’t sure he can hear her, what with her mouth being smushed into the couch, so she gives him the finger for good measure. 

She can hear him laughing, so apparently he isn’t too offended. 

“Hangover?” he asks. His voice has moved closer, and down, so she figures he’s probably kneeling next to the couch. 

“Migraine,” she grumbles. 

Clint makes a soft, sympathetic noise. “Can I get you anything?” 

“My bed,” Darcy sighs. “And my medicine. Which is also in my room.”

There’s a whisper of fabric over skin, and then Clint sliding his fingers along the back of her hand. “Here, let me tie this around your head.” 

“Hmm?”

“I can get you to your room, but it looks like you need some shades.”

Darcy cautiously lifts her head a bit, wincing at the flash of pain from the light in the room before the fabric slides across her eyes. The scent of Clint’s cologne helps drive out the remainder of the pain. Their – whatever it is – has been going on and off for a few months now, and she associates the scent with lazy, mutual exchanges of orgasms and post-orgasm kitchen raids for junk food.

Once the shirt is secured, Clint’s hands drop to her waist. “Can you roll over?” 

Darcy carefully lifts one shoulder, tipping up onto her side. Clint helps ease her the rest of the way, then hooks his arms under her knees and shoulders. “Here we go,” he murmurs, lifting her up in one smooth movement. The feeling of his bare chest pressed into her arm confirms her suspicion that her blindfold is his shirt.

She’s been on SHIELD lockdown long enough to realize that most of the Avengers are never actually in Avengers Tower, and isn’t surprised when they don’t run into anyone. She’s glad for the privacy; she and Clint have been making an effort to keep their whatever-it-is a secret, and while they aren’t really doing anything right now, she doesn’t want to explain why he knows the code to her room. 

Clint somehow gets the door to her room open without jostling her, and promptly carries her to her bed. “The lights are off,” he says softly, and Darcy carefully reaches up to pull off her make-shift blindfold. Clint has a hip on the edge of her bed, giving her a fond smile. “You said you have medicine?”

“Yeah, in the cabinet over the bathroom sink.” 

While Clint goes to find her pills, Darcy slowly wiggles out of her jeans. They’re her favorite pair, but the denim just feels too constrictive when she’s so sick. She expects Clint to give her a bit of a leer, the way he always does when clothes start coming off, but his eyes stay focused on her face when he comes back in with the medication and a glass. 

She nearly dumps the water all over herself when she tries to take a sip, so Clint helps her sit up a bit, takes the glass from her to put on the side table once she’s done choking down the pills. He winds up sitting against the headboard, Darcy’s head propped up on his thigh, his fingers stroking through her hair. 

The throbbing in her head starts to recede a bit, enough for Darcy to realize that Clint’s hands are moving in a familiar, clinical way, rubbing circles from her temples back to the base of her skull, slowly loosening the muscles in her neck. 

“You a massage therapist?” she mumbles.

“Just a SHIELD agent.” She can hear the smile in his voice. “Part of our first aid training includes the natural pressure points for pain relief, in case something happens in the field and we don’t have the right stuff.” 

“Huh.” She’d have given a more eloquent response, but the combination of the scalp message and her medication taking effect has her pretty drowsy, and her words get lost on her tongue. 

\---

She isn’t entirely sure when she fell asleep, but she wakes up on her stomach, arms extended out to either side. The ache in her head has reduced to ‘annoying’ rather than ‘incapacitating,’ and while that can clearly be contributed to the meds, she suspects that Clint’s hands had something to do with it. They are currently rubbing over her upper arms, pushing circles into her triceps. 

“You should really think about a career change,” Darcy murmurs. 

“I’ll consider it,” Clint says, pulling away to grab the glass of water. “Feeling better?” 

Darcy hums an affirmative, slowly moving to sit beside him, propped against the headboard. “Thanks for your help. I usually have a little more warning before it gets that bad.”

“No problem.” Clint leans over enough to rest his chin on her head. “You need anything else?” 

Darcy takes another sip of water to buy herself some time. She knows what she _wants_ him to do, figures he would probably say yes, but she isn’t sure how it would play into the future of their whatever-it-is situation. She sneaks a look up at him, finds him watching her with a genuinely open look on his face, and makes her decision. 

“I’m going to nap a little more. Will you stay with me?” 

Clint smiles, and shocks the hell out of her by brushing a light kiss over her forehead. “Sure.” 

Clint had never gotten around to putting his shirt back on, and Darcy hadn’t put anything on after kicking out of her jeans, so they just slide down onto the bed. Considering that she never stays the night after one of their hook-ups, they snuggle together easily. Darcy has a brief moment of wonderment at how _right_ it feels before she dozes off, Clint’s breath warming the back of her ear.

\---

Darcy wakes up hours later, if the stiffness in her limbs is any indication. Clint is still wrapped around her, his arm pulling her back into his chest and, by the feel of it, his erection. Darcy gives an experimental squirm, and laughs when he groans into the back of her neck. 

“You must be feeling better,” he says, pushing on her hip until she rolls over to face him. 

“Much.” She instinctively starts to lean up towards him, aborts the movement, then decides ‘hell with it’ and does it anyway.

Clint is clearly surprised and takes a minute to respond, but when he does, Darcy is delighted to discover that his mouth is just as good at kissing as it is at… other things. 

He raises an eyebrow at her when she pulls away. Darcy shrugs and says, “Celebrating the end of the migraine. They usually last for days.”

Clint grins, dipping down to kiss her again. “I like your celebration methods.” 

Darcy licks her way into his mouth, whining a little when one of his hands moves from her back down to her ass and his hips begin rolling a bit against hers. She’s been planning her next move for a while, other than figuring out exactly what to say, so when she opens her mouth what tumbles out is “I want to have sex with you.” 

Clint’s hips still, his face pulling back from hers. “Look, Darce, I-”

“Still not a relationship,” she breaks in. “Just, y’know, as fun as the blowjobs are, sometimes I want something a little bigger than fingers.”

“Isn’t that what dildos are for?”

“God, are you kidding, those are so much _work_ ,” Darcy laughs, shoving at his shoulder a little. Joking is a good sign. “It’s cool if you’re not okay with it, I just have supporting evidence that you’re good in the sack and you’re in my bed right now.”

Clint gnaws on his lip a little, the same face he’d made when she’d first propositioned him for a blowjob nearly three months ago. “You’re _sure_ this doesn’t mean anything?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes at him. “Although if convincing you is going to be this much work, maybe I should reconsider the dildo option.” 

Clint is still giving her a considering look, though it’s now more of a leer. “Do you actually have one of those?” 

Darcy bursts out laughing. “No. Used to, but I hated it and tossed it during the move. I do have a vibrator, which I will consider showing you if you promise not to be an ass about it.” 

Clint snickers, ducks down to nip at her bottom lip. “Do you have condoms?” 

\---

Clint is good at sex.

This really shouldn’t have surprised her, since they’ve been fooling around her months and she’s never been disappointed, but there’s something different about actually being directly face-to-face while they’re getting each other off. 

Clint’s an average length, but a little thicker than other guys that she’s been with, and that extra girth is really doing something for her. When he works a hand between them to press his thumb over her clit, her hips come up off the bed, legs wrapping around his waist to try to pull him closer. She can feel the pressure building, pushing up her chest and down her spine, forcing her fingers to clench harder as she scratches down his back, white starbursts appearing in her vision as she comes, shaking apart underneath him. 

She isn’t entirely conscious of her movements, just vaguely enough to realize that her hips had hitched even higher while she was screaming, and something about that’s apparently really working for Clint, who promptly thrusts as deep inside her as he can go and holds himself there, braced up on his forearms while his hips stutter against hers.

Eventually he lowers himself to lay on top of her, lips pressed to the top swell of her breast, and lets out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, okay. Maybe this was a good idea.”

Darcy hits him with a pillow.

\---

Eventually he rolls off of her to go take care of the condom, which leads to both of them in her bathroom, getting in each other’s way in the shower until she finally sits down on the edge of the tub and waits for him to finish rinsing off. 

By the time she makes it out of the bathroom he’s already dressed, sitting on her bed to re-lace his sneakers. She waves vaguely at him as she goes to her closet, and by the time she turns to hang her towel up, he’s gone.

She’s not surprised- they really don’t spend time together when they’re not messing around- but she intends to track him down later.

After all, she has plans for that vibrator.

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless plug: I am participating in the AO3 auction! And if you want, you can bid on me here: http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/psalmoflife. There are a ton of awesome, talented people participating, so even if you're not interested in bidding on me, you should check out the full author list.


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